


Manifestations - Jen's Choice

by Kalium



Series: Manifestations - Book 1 [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Ableism, Animal Attack, Blind Character, Blood, Community: runaway_tales, Disabled Character, Familial Abuse, Family, Fantasy, Fire, Gen, Magic, Monsters, Psychic Bond, Wakes & Funerals, abuse recovery, burn injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-09
Updated: 2011-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-23 14:17:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalium/pseuds/Kalium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jen and Dhaymin Dhalsiv, the sons of a minor nobleman, have always grown up in the expectation that they will follow their parents in protecting their home from the strange beasts that infest the forests of Rhusav. But when a hunting trip goes wrong, leaving their father dead and both brothers marked in very different ways, they find themselves forced to consider that their lives aren't as predestined as that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was initially written as a set of shorts and drabbles on the livejournal community runaway_tales.

Jen uncurled himself, the heat of battle fading away. The immediate danger gone, he felt the aches seep back into his body, and he gasped for breath as the realisation sunk in. Father was gone, and so was Dhaymin. Just himself, out there on the ridge, alone. He rubbed his arm, just above the elbow, where a set of claws had torn his sleeve open, the cloth dangling uselessly. Underneath, rapidly drying, sticky blood clung to the skin. Jen wasn’t sure whose it was. _Mustn’t be monster's blood,_ he told himself. _Can’t let it mix._ But it was cold, and rapidly growing dark, and the world had ebbed away into nothing but torn flesh and the ever-lingering scent of pine needles. And it would be so easy to sit here, but Father would be waiting.

He nearly called out to them as he got back to his feet, grabbing a rough tree branch for support, but no - that wouldn’t work if he didn’t want the thing to come back. There was still light, fading and giving away to stars, but enough to see by, if he tried hard enough. So he scrambled down the dirt slope on unsteady legs, looking out for signs. Even now, it was all too apparent. The ground lay scuffed, plants broken. The thing had turned from his father and brother onto him, and driven him up the slope. And then it had tried to crush him in its claws, and he’d curled up waiting for it to strike one more time...

..and then it had gone away.

Its blood had gotten into his. And everyone knew what that meant. But he pushed it away. He mustn’t think of that yet, not until he got home. So he slipped away, forgetting it all, and he became a shadow within the trees. It was easy enough, once you knew how to tell yourself what had happened to you didn’t matter. You forgot about the stupid blood, because everyone obsessed so much over blood, even if you wouldn’t dare tell them that. That was all from the hidden depth voice, and you never listened to that one, because it might sound true, but it wasn’t. Everyone else knew that.

And that was how he came to his father, first of all. He might have tripped over him, and for one horrible moment he thought he might be gone, but he was still breathing and, when Jen pressed his fingers to his neck, he could feel the strong heartbeat. Still a shadow, still not letting himself think too much, he stood back up. Dhaymin would have to help him get him back. If he had to pull one person, he would, all the way back home if needs be. He’d collapse later, but he’d deal with that... well, later. He could still walk, still pull one of them, and that was the important thing, wasn’t it?

Except lay not far away, still breathing, his heart still beating, but as Jen sat there, trying his hardest to remain a shadow and see things for what they were, he knew what was coming.

 _Choose,_ said the cold, shadow-voice at the back of his mind.

 _Easy,_ said the hidden depth voice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jen and Dhaymin's mother, picking up the pieces.

Majiv Dhalsiv had been waiting too long for the news.

Nevertheless, she wasn’t ready to break down just yet. This was her home, her domain. The time for panic was later, was that not always what she told Jen? When she was younger, had she not impressed her now husband by bringing down a tiger that had strayed too close to the holding? Well, there were no tigers anymore - they had all given way to worse things. But those were what her family needed. The cat’s skin still hung above the door, a reminder of the path ahead. The same door that Jen had burst through earlier, dragging Dhaymin behind him and yelling about his father.

That was when the world spun out of her control.

Now Jen lay flat out, in a deep sleep. His feet stuck out from the end of the bed - he’d never fitted any of them in years, despite her best efforts to stop him growing out of everything. “He looks well enough to me.”

Kejik looked up at her with her usual wide, uncertain eyes. She was new here, and barely older than Jen, but Majiv had taken what she could get. Good healers were in short supply. “Not well enough to join the search party. He insisted, but he wouldn’t have managed two steps after all he did. It took a lot for me to stop him. You... you have a very dutiful son, Lady Dhalsiv...”

Majiv held up her hand for silence. Kejik was new, she couldn’t know. “Dhaymin?”

“He’s alive. I moved him, I thought it best if Jen didn’t see when he woke up.”

Majiv listened as Kejik told her the rest of the story, but in her mind, it was already all said, and Kejik was already filling in the gaps. She had seen him when Jen brought him in. She’d known he wouldn’t keep his eyes. She’d already, in her mind, seen herself stand over him, carve the signs of battle into his body, and then slit his throat, because he was already dead. She’d held back, but she told herself she was only doing in until Kejik confirmed everything. She had taught Jen, long ago, how to forget about himself, and now she did the same, slipping away into a shadow of her self and watching everything unfold before her. “He is dead,” she told Kejik.

“I did all I could.”

“What good is a blind hunter?”

“More than a tarnished one.”

This was the part Majiv hadn’t seen. Nothing in her picture of the future had included the set of deep gashes on Jen’s arm, the ones Kejik could never have cleaned out on time. It wasn’t certain, that was what she told herself, and that was how she stayed as a shadow. Out of all the things that she’d seen in her mind, this was the one uncertain point, the part where everything could change, and the future’s pivot.

The rest of the world remained fixed, and Majiv knew she could not wait for it. There was work to be done, all around the holding, that was so big for so few people.

When the search party returned, with the news her husband had been found dead, it was all just another part of the preconceived picture.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dhaymin only admitted to being scared once his life fell apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tense shift is due to the initial series of shorts format.

The world is a blur, fading from dreams to reality with no trace of the line between. Something went wrong. He knows that much, that's why he can hear people talking - his mother, his brother, others whose names he can't recall. That's why when he dreams he's standing by his father while the monster charges, great claws spread wide. That's why when he wakes, everything is dark.

He doesn’t recall the exact moment he knows. Perhaps he woke and listened while someone tried to explain, or perhaps that was a dream and he worked it all out himself. The end result is the same. The first thing he knows is real, for absolute certain, is one moment where Jen’s talking to him. He doesn’t quite remember how it started, or what it was about, but the conversation turns to the attack, as he knows it would, and what must follow.

“I won’t let her do it,” Jen says.

And that’s a strange thing to hear from someone who’s mostly intact, but, Dhaymin reasons, it’s Jen, and he’d known he’d rebel one day, given enough of a shove. If there’s one thing Dhaymin’s had time to do in the dark, it’s to think of what he is now, and what has brought him to this place. The world has always worked a certain way, and it hasn’t been happy and it certainly hasn’t been fair, but it has been familiar. There’s no pattern any more, no paths, no this time next year, no glory - and this, he tells himself, is where being Father’s prized warrior has gotten him. But he also knows what Jen did, out there in the cold forest, and to die now would be ungrateful.

That’ll keep him alive until he works out what he’s going to be next.

“That’s good,” he says. He feels Jen’s hand brush against his and grips it tight. “Just stay here for now, Jen? I’m fucking scared.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dhaymin starts to pull himself back together.

Left foot, then right foot, then left foot again.

It’s slow going, but Dhaymin supposes that’s not due to his current situation. There’s just that gash in his right leg, and the pain shoots up it when he puts weight on it, but it doesn’t matter, and in any case it’ll go away in time, so it’s the least of his worries. Besides, he could drink whatever disgusting slime Kejik’s cooked up this week and make it go away, but then he’s barely be upright, and if that’s the choice he knows what he wants.

They’re heading toward the hall again, he realises, as he counts his steps. They’ve gone past the kitchens and up that one passage that starts out on one floor and comes out on another, and it’s only a few paces from there to the side door that’ll take them out onto the gallery. Left foot again, right foot again. That’s close enough, just enough to feel the difference. It’s a small one, but the air is colder, and there’s a difference to the quality of the echoes. He’s never noticed before, or maybe he has, and this is the first time it’s ever registered in thoughts rather than lurking at the back.

“Holding up?” says Jen.

“Jen, rule one.”

“Don’t offer unless it’s asked. I know. Went and forgot.”

“Don’t worry,” said Dhaymin. Jen’s new to it all as well, he’ll pick it up. Hopefully. The problem is, there isn’t a book in their admittedly tiny library about what to do if a monster’s clawed your eyes out. Not that it’d be any use, but Jen might appreciate it. No, the world’s all come down now to trial and error, improvising, working everything out as he goes along. It’s enough to keep his mind running, to feel the little highs when he knows where he is, or readjusts his internal picture of the holding. You think you know where everything is, and then you realise the world’s full of little bumps and hollows and stairs where no sensible person would ever put them.

Fucking stairs.

Besides, there’s Jen’s little problem. Dhaymin might have been in such a haze he couldn’t remember when he knew his eyes were gone, but he remembers finding out about Jen. Or rather, getting the information out of him. He’d suspected Jen was holding something back, and he’d been right. There’d been a good deal of raised voices, a horrible sense of suspicions confirmed, and Jen, his voice trailing into near silence, managing to choke out “I didn’t know how to say it. You’ve had enough as it is.”

Yes, well, his eyes are gone and moving around hurts and there’s all those fucking stairs. There’s still no sense in lying around feeling sorry for himself.

“You know we don’t know for sure? Not until the thing with the sea water.” _Tedious pile of shit,_ that. And he’s startled himself, because he didn’t realise the thought was coming. “It’s the waiting that’s pissing me off. Aunt Bala would know in a second.” _She always said you didn’t need sea water._

“Yes, well, the last time we saw Aunt Bala...” Jen doesn’t need to finish. The last time they’d seen Aunt Bala was through a crack in the door while Mother and Father screamed at her to never go near their children again.

“So let’s not act like it’s for certain. Who knows? Maybe you’re clean.”

“Fuck. I’d be Lord Dhalsiv if I was. I... don’t think I ever thought that’d happen.”

Dhaymin tugs on Jen’s arm. “Well, come on,” he says. “I can’t stand here all day.” The pain’s getting worse, and there’s no way he’ll let it build up to the point where he can’t walk back. Lord Jen Dhalsiv. He turns the name and title over in his mind to distract himself. Well, it’s not as if the forest people will call him Lord Dhaymin now. Sometimes a man like himself might scrape by, if he’s got wits or talent enough, or if there’s no choice, but not someone putting themselves back together out of scraps.

“What are you going to do if I’m not?”

Dhaymin clenches his teeth and focuses on his feet. Left foot, right foot, each and every time. They’re going upwards now. He knows where he is. It’s a start.

“I’ll staunch it,” he says, after some deliberation. “If you want. Shame we’ve no wolf’s blood.” He’s not even sure if there are wolves left. Jen always said the predators were the first to go.

“Do you think that’ll work?”

 _I don’t know._ “Worth a try.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some forms of magic are ancient. Some forms of magic can buy you valuable time. Not a lot of magic is pleasant.

“Fuck, Jen. I’m sorry.”

Dhaymin held the stone, hot from the fire, in one heavily gloved hand. With his other he traced the line of Jen’s arm, his fingers reaching the knot of barely healed scar tissue just below his shoulder. The new skin, fresh and pink, ached slightly to the touch, like a bruise on the verge of fading. “It’s fine,” Jen reassured his brother. “I won’t scream.”

What did Dhaymin have to be sorry for? Jen had made the choice, not him.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes, and Dhaymin pressed the stone to his skin.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dhaymin comes up with a plan.

“What have you done to it?” Kejik gave Jen a nudge toward the doorway, where a little more light shone through, and he moved aside. She looked closer at the exposed scar, now open and cracked, red and shining in the light. “Listen. I’m not a beast-hunter. I don’t know why you gave yourself a burn, but I can tell that’s what it is.”

“Well, he did it,” Jen said, gesturing with his free hand toward the still, probably sleeping Dhaymin. “It’s the blood.”

She said nothing to that, but led him back to his seat. They continued in silence as she washed out the burns, rubbing them clean with vinegar. Jen closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, trying his best to ignore the burning sting. _Buggered if I’ll scream._ If he wasn’t willing to scream in front of Dhaymin, he wasn’t even going to think of doing it in front of Kejik. Nevertheless, it was a tremendous relief to finally be able to bind the site up again, first with fine cloths, and then with the heavy, sigil-embroidered wrap he kept over it at all times. Just in case.

“Listen...” she said, when it was all over.

“Yes?” Jen rubbed at the site, pressing where the pain was worst. It never completely ebbed away, but at least it was tolerable after a while.

“I suppose I need to thank you. You’ve been helping me ever since you came back here.”

“Well, of course I’d do that!” he said. What was wrong now? Was he supposed to have been doing something else, instead? It just seemed like the right thing to do, even if he’d had to leave the room and find something to retch into the first time he’d seen the full extent of the damage. “I just didn’t have anything else to do. I suppose I should help out with-”

“Oh... no, I didn’t mean that! I know I could have done it alone, but this way we all get to have some sleep once in a while.”

“Oh.”

“You did a lot for your brother just by bringing him to me.”

“Well, that’s just...” Jen shrugged. “It’s what I’d do.” _You idiot, she’s trying to cheer you up,_ he thought, just before a sinking lurch in his stomach when he realised that he’d made another implication he’d far rather have saved Dhaymin than Father. She pitied him too, over his difficult decision. And Jen knew, in the part of his mind that did all the clear thinking, that it was difficult, no _beyond_ difficult, to look at two dying family members and choose which one would live. But the hidden depth voice, sitting in the back of his mind and taunting him with things that couldn’t be true, reminded him of how easy it had been. Dhaymin, any day. _You’re guilty, but not because you let Father die. You’re guilty because you didn’t feel guilty._

And now was not the time for this nonsense. “Well, I’m sorry he keeps insisting on getting up.”

“It’s not a problem.”

Jen looked back over at Dhaymin, who still hadn’t moved. “Do you really think we should be talking about him like this?”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure he’s asleep.”

“He’s not asleep.”

Kejik and Jen exchanged glances at the sound of Dhaymin’s voice. “Shit...” Jen said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I’m only listening in,” Dhaymin went on. In the dim light Jen couldn’t make out his expression, but there was an edge to his voice that suggested he was smiling. “Kejik, a word with you about that blood mess? I need you to pass on a message to my mother.”

Kejik gave Jen an uneasy look, before shuffling over to Dhaymin’s side. “What is it?”

“You’re aware my brother’s a good man,” Dhaymin said. “Which is why I, obligations aside, have a few doubts about the blood thing. I want to be sure what’s happened to him. Which is why I’d appreciate it if my mother took the time to find the best person for the job. I don’t want any cheap rock-salt and lake water job, do you understand? Get an echo-eater if you have to. Just get the best. Understand?”

“I... yes.”

“You afraid? Don’t be. It’s my order, not yours, and if she gives you any problems it’s on my breath. She can come and see me directly, if she wants to.”

Jen watched the proceedings in stunned silence, until Kejilk nodded and left the room. “What was that all about? Dhaymin, if I’m... I’ve... if I’m like _that_ , I want to know, not wait for months so you can get an echo-eater in! Those people are mad! Madder than... well. They’re just mad, yes?”

“I know. And what do you think is going to happen to you if you are?”

“...well, I didn’t really want to think of that!” Jen got to his feet, standing over Dhaymin. “It’s not exactly something you plan your life around!”

“Neither’s what happened to me!”

“Oh, you know how to shut someone up.” Jen grabbed the chair he’d been sitting on and dragged it over to the bedside, where he sat back down. “You really do.” A chance was better. “I still don’t understand.”

“Didn’t think you would. Think about it. If you’re... that, then what’s Mother going to do? More to the point, what am I going to do? What can I do? I’m buying time. It’ll take a few months at least for Mother to get a good echo-eater. I can do a lot in a few months. Get better. Learn to fight again. Things like that.”

“Yes, but what’s that got to do with-”

“Oh, come on, Jen! You’re supposed to be the one who’s good at thinking! What do you think it’s got to do with anything? You think I’m going to lie down while Mother throws you out or tries to kill you? Because don’t have any ideas, that’s exactly what she’s going to do and you know it. You’re going to need someone to get in her way.”

“You’d do that?”

“Course.” Dhaymin reached a hand out, and Jen took it in his, gripping it tight.

Jen sat in silence for a few seconds, holding on to Dhaymin’s hand as though there were nothing more in the world. Now Dhaymin’s plan was laid out in front of him, he found that he didn’t know how to respond. He’d never given his future any thought, trying to push it back to the dark places, deciding he’d let it worry him when he knew the truth. “Just one question,” he said, eventually.

“What?”

“Since when did you become a strategic thinker?”

“I never did. I’m throwing together a lot of stupid ideas and hoping something comes out of them.”

Jen smiled. “You really haven’t changed a bit.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarn Dhalsiv's memorial is unimpressive, after all he was. Jen isn't sure how to feel about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drabble, 1st person Jen POV.

I’ve never been to a funeral before. Mother gave me the impression this was not the way it should have gone, and perhaps she was right. This was a man who had fought to protect and restore his family, and had fallen during his chase.

Father’s body wasn’t pretty, and it didn’t smell pretty when it burned. He’d been left to lie too long, and it’s the wrong time of year for ice. The worst was that the smell was all I could think of. Just like the choice I made. Too easy.

I think I forgot how to grieve.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Majiv has objections to Dhaymin's plans, but Dhaymin isn't about to back down.

The world was a blur, fading from dreams to reality with fading traces of the lines between. Dhaymin knew what was wrong. There was no such thing as night and day. The rhythms of life dissolved into sound - the morning birdsong, the footsteps and voices of those around him. The first tastes of summer hung in the air - the calls of migrant birds, the warm sun on his skin when he stood outside. It would be his twenty sixth. His day approached, or perhaps it had already passed and nobody saw fit to tell him.

If it were day or night right now, he didn’t know. But he knew who was with him right now. “You decided to come to see me, Mother?”

“It’s been so hard, Dhaymin.”

“It must have been. How long has it been since we burned Father?” Dhaymin lounged back in his chair, half burying himself in the mound of soft, old cushions.

“You don’t know... oh, of course, you don’t know.” He heard a creak as she shifted her weight, and when she spoke again, her voice was right by his ear. “I am so sorry.” Something brushed against the back of his hand - the light touch of her fingers. He flinched, pulling away from her touch. “What’s wrong? Dhaymin, please talk to me!”

“I can hear you!” Dhaymin gripped the chair arms, smoothed down by years of occupants. “You’re here because of what I asked Kejik?”

“Dhaymin, dear, you can’t go on telling yourself things about Jen that you know aren’t true.”

“How do you know they aren’t?”

“Dhaymin...” Her voice sounded strained now, choked with emotion. He wondered how much of it was real. “Dhaymin... let me tell you something. When Jen brought you in, when I saw what had happened to you, almost gave up on you. But then I heard what had happened to Jen, and... those are battle scars you have, Dhaymin! There’s no shame in battle scars.” And then he felt her hand over his forehead, brushing against the rough clawed furrows, another hand cradling his head and holding it still. “You are still my Dhaymin. But Jen... Jen is gone. He was stolen. You have to accept it.”

Dhaymin jerked his head out of her grasp, and heard her take a few steps backwards in surprise. “Stop. That. Now.”

In the silence that ensued, Dhaymin pushed himself upright, steadying himself with the chair arms, trembling a little but holding still. He heard nothing but the sound of his own breath, ragged and deep, but he stayed where he was. If she was still there, and he hadn’t heard her leave, she must be waiting for him. Let her.

“Dhaymin...”

There. “You should watch your breath, Mother. I am Lord Dhalsiv. This is _my_ land.” The thought had arisen somewhere in the depths, in all the time he’d had to think. Time he’d never had before.

“I am Majiv Dhalsiv. This is my home.”

“Then you have me at a bit of a draw, haven’t you?” Dhaymin realised he was smiling. She couldn’t do anything, even if she wanted to! Not only was he her... last son... she held back because there was no honour in striking down a blind man. _And even less if he strikes you down in return, isn’t there?_ He imagined himself duelling his own mother, and found it more satisfying than he’d dared imagine. So many things he’d never dreamed he’d think, until Father had gotten himself killed!

“You are planning something.”

“Perhaps. But perhaps I wanted to give my dear brother the test he deserved. There are only three of us now. Do you think you can afford to lose another? Don’t you want to hang onto the chance he’s not tarnished after all?”

“Then you would be...”

“Worthless? Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m sure you can find me a nice woman to fuck so she can give you a few grandchildren, and then I’ll quietly walk into the snow. That was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”

“You...”

“An echo-eater for Jen. The best. You can’t afford any less, and you know it.”

“He...” She sighed, and Dhaymin heard her footsteps as she walked to the door, pausing by his side. “I always worried for him. Myself and your father. He had no battle lust. He was nothing like you. He should have been born a Toxiliviti scholar. I wanted to keep him safe, and I was always frightened I couldn’t. That’s why we always asked you to protect him.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys make their exit.

If you can put one foot in front of the other, you’re on your way.

That was what Dhaymin told himself as the months drew on, summer flared into life, and, somewhat to his surprise, Majiv kept her word. Perhaps he’d found that crack, that part of her that didn’t want to believe what had happened to Jen. She rode out day after day on her search, just as he’d bidden her. The holding fell silent, the brothers alone with each other just as when they’d been small, too young to go on long hunts. Only Kejik remained, a scurrying little presence of nervous footsteps, unsure if she should comfort them or stay well out of their way.

It would do.

Through the silence and darkness he walked further every day, strength returning to his body. Summer drew on. Majiv spent almost all her time away, and when she was there she spoke of Jen as though he’d already died. Sometimes, in the all too common moment when she forgot Dhaymin could still hear her, she spoke the same of him.

And one day, when the cold breezes blew again from the mountains, she returned with an echo-eater in tow.

  
“You don’t sound unusual.” Everyone said echo-eaters were mad. At least beast-hunters only dealt with things that could stand before you and rip you apart with teeth and claws. That was enough to drive most of _them_ mad, nevermind what this woman must have been through. Yet she sounded no different to Kejik.

“You’re a beast-hunter. Around you, at least, I can drop the act.”

“Suppose you make sense.”

“I know I do.”

“Well, I don’t know what I can do to stop you.” When she’d strode through the door, the wind blew right into the hall, and Dhaymin felt his skin prickle - from what? The anticipation that the question on his mind all this time might finally be answered? Or knowing that he’d run out of time to stall, and when the inevitable happened, he’d have to carry out his plans in the face of winter? “So go on. Do what you have to do. But one thing. I was promised sea water. Real sea water.”

“Only the best. Here. Take this.” She pressed something into his hands, something cold and smooth, a bottle whose contents sloshed as he turned it over. “Open it. I wouldn’t want you to think less of me.”

He did as he was told, nudging the stopper off and letting a little of it drip onto his fingers, sniffing at it, and giving it a hesitant, experimental taste, licking it away. The salt overwhelmed his tongue. “Yes. That’s real. Go on, then. He’s all yours.”

He listened to her footsteps as they faded away, and leaned against the wall. Time was up.

  
The sound of dripping water echoed through the chamber. Jen’s breath came ragged and fast. The echo-eater let go of Dhaymin’s hand. A few seconds later, the door closed, and they were alone.

“Ffff... fuck,” whispered Jen. “I’m sorry, Dhaymin. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  
Dhaymin still had the box. He’d kept at least that promise to his father, despite everything he’d done. And he’d kept it well hidden. Even Jen didn’t know where it was, even if he’d learned of its existence during the years. He’d kept it safe, and, true to his word, never opened it, waiting for the day when his parents never came home.

He lifted it from its hiding place, running his fingers over the worn but familiar patterns and ridges, feeling its familiar weight. Sometimes, when he’d been younger, he’d tried shaking it to hear what was inside, but there’d never been anything but a hollow thunk. He lifted it to his ear anyway, giving it a cautious jolt, but heard nothing different. What a deal this had been. Everyone said without eyes, the rest of you grew sharper to compensate. Bloody lie, the lot of it.

At the sound of a knock on the door he stuffed the box into his pack, deep at the bottom. “Come in.”

“Dhaymin?” The door creaked open at the sound of Jen’s voice. “I thought I should come back, just to-Dhaymin, what in Rakaros’ name are you _doing?_ ”

“You’re the one with the eyes. You tell me.”

  
“You can’t do this.” Majiv tugged on his arm, and Dhaymin pulled away.

“I can and I will.” Dhaymin held out his free hand, feeling Jen’s long fingers grasp it. “I am Lord Dhalsiv. But that’s not why.”

“I don’t think this is a good-” Jen began, but he shut up as Dhaymin squeezed his hand.

“I already honoured your wishes. I didn’t kill him. If you want him to die slowly in the forest while his mind fades-”

“Not going to happen.” Dhaymin held up the lantern in his other hand, all warm with barely contained flame. “I made a promise a long time ago.”

“That was never meant to-”

“And you obviously haven’t noticed where all those spirits went from the cellar. I haven’t been drinking like you thought, Mother. They’re here. Rubbed into the walls and floor, right into the wood. He took a deep breath, inhaling the faint traces of vapour. “A little at a time, just so you wouldn’t catch the smell. But you do now, don’t you?” He took a step back, Jen pushing open the door and letting the chill autumn night come rushing in. “That promise? You rode out once and told me to look after him. What do you think I’m doing now?” Without waiting for a reply, he hurled the lantern to the floor, the glass shattering in an instant. A rush of hot air met his face, and Jen pulled away, dragging him backwards.

He turned, stumbling to right himself, and, as his mother’s cries echoed through the hall, put one foot in front of the other.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a scary thing, being free for the first time.

“The hall is burning. Flames at every window. Little bits of light in the dark, like midwinter candles.”

Dhaymin wore a satisfied smile at the picture Jen painted with his words, his expression just visible in the lamplight. Jen wished he could share it, but now was not the time. He had slipped into his shadow-Jen self, keeping thoughts and feelings locked away deep down, so he could bring them out and analyse them one by one, only when it was safe.

Until then, another world, the night forest at his back, awaited, and all Dhaymin’s hopes with them.


End file.
